


i'm cold as the wind blows (so hold me in your arms)

by crutchiebytheway



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff, DWSA verse, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Minor Character Death, hurt/comfort elements, little spoon Hanschen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 15:57:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5973301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crutchiebytheway/pseuds/crutchiebytheway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanschen looks back on his life and past relationships while lying in bed one night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm cold as the wind blows (so hold me in your arms)

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I've been messing around with different Hanschen backstories/trying to figure out the best characterization, and this is just one that I finished, so it's a bit experimental. I also definitely didn't edit am for as long as a should have, oh well.
> 
> Let me know what you think! 
> 
> Title from Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran.

Hanschen tries not to think about it too much. Everything was so simple before. Of course Ernst had to come along and change things.

No, Hanschen thinks, late at night when he should be fast asleep. It isn't Ernst's fault. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Ernst had done nothing wrong. Things had been complicated for much longer than he liked to admit.

God, he likes being with Ernst. In all ways. He likes being able to kiss Ernst. He likes it when he holds his hand and Ernst rubs his thumb against his. He likes fighting for the blanket with him. The little things. It all snuck up on him, and he likes it. 

Hanschen wonders if this is love. Is there such a thing?

His sisters would know. But he couldn't possibly ask either of them about this, he'd never hear the end of it. Sure, they mean well, but they tease him about Ernst enough as it is. Hanschen supposes he can't blame them, because for once a relationship in their brother's life seems to be going right. 

And he loves his sisters. He loves them with all this heart. Thea and Melitta have not once left his side, even when he may have deserved it. Once or twice.

So he does know love in that sense, the kind between brothers and sisters who have seen hell together. But that kind of love isn't the same as the emotions that come with Ernst.

Hanschen searches his mind. Since graduating high school, there had been several one night stands, boys and girls alike. Only one girl whose name he couldn't even remember had come back for a date, and disappeared afterwards, never to be seen again.

That was where things differed. Sure, those encounters had _definitely_ been nice while they lasted, that was it. They didn't last. Ernst wiggled his way in with study sessions where nothing even vaguely sexual or romantic happened, until that fateful day on their walk home when Hanschen gained enough courage to kiss him. He never would have hesitated before.

Like the very end of his senior year of high school, he went out on a whim and drunkenly kissed Melchior Gabor, an act that mirrored most of Hanschen's middle school daydreams. But instead of the two falling in love, as Hanschen's 13 year old self had planned, the result was a handjob in the backseat of his car and about a week of awkwardness between the two of them.

He dated Bobby Maler the entirety of the summer between junior year and senior year, only to find out he had been cheated on nearly the whole time. Thea and Melitta had gone crazy with that one, Hanschen recalls. He remembers rumors of a glitter bomb in Bobby's locker, but he hadn't left his room to witness it. Not that he let anyone know he was sulking at home. If they happened to think he had planned Bobby's punishment, so be it. He still doesn't know why he was so hurt by it anyways. It never was Bobby he saw when they were together.

Just the year before, Hanschen had to be the one to inform the class that his best friend of 3 years and (though he hadn't admitted to himself at the time) long time crush, Max von Trenk, had succumbed to Meningitis and died.

It started, again, with his sisters, who found it odd that Hanschen had been scolded for slamming the door and hadn't even bothered with a sarcastic remark. It took several hours to get the story out of Hanschen (and Hanschen out of the bathroom), but they wept with him just the same.

His classmates pestered him, days later, about his week long absence, and Max's previous disappearance. Hanschen remembers looking to the teacher for help, because surely, she would have been informed by now, the teacher would save him from having to say it aloud. But no, she only made a point to look away and pretend not to notice Hanschen's distress. Typical of an authority figure in his life, he realizes now.

And before meeting Max in the 8th grade, Hanschen had only a major crush on Melchior Gabor, stolen kisses with various students behind the bleachers, and an increasing anxiety that arose with the Church.

As much as it hurt him to leave his sisters to go to church alone, he couldn't bring himself to explain why it was he'd do anything to avoid attending mass, and he _really_ couldn't continue to suck it up and keep going. Hanschen had done that long enough.

He couldn't place any blame on his sisters for not noticing something was wrong. Certainly, they must've just thought it was just another one of his stunts to make their father angry. Which it did, of course. That was how the truth came out, in the end. Hanschen's father, furious that his son now spent his time locked in his room with the stereo blasting to cover up any noises rather than continuing to go to church with his family, slapped him across the face.

This was no ordinary, light slap. The sheer force of the impact caused Hanschen to bite down on his tongue and go flailing towards the ground. His cheek stung, and even just remembering the incident, Hanschen swears he can feel it, lying in bed years and years and years later.

In the moment, his stomach twisted and threatened to betray him; instead, he threw up the truth. The reason why his years as an alter boy left him with the unshakeable imprint of uninvited hands on his body.

"Liar," his father called him, and that hurt even more than the slap, the various blows that followed, or Melitta's screams when she walked in the door.

"Hanschen?" Ernst vocalizes, before switching back to ASL. He turns on the light. _"What's wrong?"_

Hanschen throws the cover off and goes to stand by the window, despite the cold seeping in the room. 

_"I'm fine."_ Hanschen chooses not to speak as he signs until he is sure his voice won't fail him.

Ernst does him the greatest favor he could ask for and does not push the issue any further. They sit there in silence, Ernst watching Hanschen intently, Hanschen staring out the window. Ernst must notice his white knuckles from grasping onto the window pane, or his clenched jaw, because he taps on the bedside table, calling for Hanschen's attention. 

_"Come back to bed,"_ he instructs, and turns off the light. 

And Hanschen does, of course, this time returning to his side of the bed with his back to Ernst. Ernst wraps his arms around him and grabs his hands tight. Hanschen squeezes back just as hard. Ernst sighs as he snuggles up closer , and _Oh,_ Hanschen thinks. _Maybe this_ is _love._

And that's alright with him.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!


End file.
